


most ardently

by donutcats



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 09:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutcats/pseuds/donutcats
Summary: "We're friends, aren't we?""Well, I would hope we are, otherwise my declaration of undying friendship that I made just the other day to Bash would seem awfully ridiculous."Anne scoffs at his attempt at humor, but there's a flick to her eyes and a quickly repressed twitch of her lips. "Do not try and dissuade me from my current train of thought, Gilbert, no matter how remarkably imaginative that scenario lends to the mind."





	most ardently

**Author's Note:**

> something short and sweet since I just finished binging anne with an e. that's really all there is to it. I love the characters and I just needed to write about these two being soft for each other.

"Gilbert?" 

"Yes, Anne?" 

He looks up from his book, a large text filled to the brim with all sorts of medical knowledge that he borrowed from Dr. Ward's office the last time he was by. Anne sits next to him, only a few scant feet away, her legs crossed underneath her, and a book of her own perched open in her lap. He didn't get a good look at the title cover when she cracked it open, but he suspects it's one of her numerous poetry books she's so terribly fond of. She doesn't look up, continues to glue her eyes to the pages. 

"We're friends, aren't we?" Her voice is light as ever, but there's something in it, lurking beneath the surface, that has him sitting up a bit straighter. It sounds like faux casualness, a forced bit of leisure that he has grown accustomed to when Anne wants to seem like something does not bother her, or when she wishes to ask something that she isn't quite sure how to broach. 

"Well, I would hope we are, otherwise my declaration of undying friendship that I made just the other day to Bash would seem awfully ridiculous." 

Anne scoffs at his attempt at humor, but there's a flick to her eyes and a quickly repressed twitch of her lips. "Do not try and dissuade me from my current train of thought, Gilbert, no matter how remarkably imaginative that scenario lends to the mind."

"Of course, my sincerest apologies." Gilbert replies with the same tone of parodying solemnity. "Please, do go on with your current train of thought."

"We are friends, so I would hope against hope that you would perfectly understand when I explain to you that, well. We should possibly for the better be less, well, companionable with each other hence forth."

_ "Companionable?" _

"Yes. Less, chummy, I suppose." 

"I know what companionable means, Anne. My confusion stems from the fact that I don't understand _ why _we need to be less of it."

"Well, you see- the talking and the walking to school together, and the _ studying, _ and- Oh when you gave me that apple of yours because you overheard that I ran out of the house without eating much breakfast, and you tried to disguise it as not being in the _ mood _ for an apple which, honestly Gilbert what a sorry excuse-"

He cuts her off before she can really get going, no matter how much he would be perfectly content to sit and listen to her ramble on about much anything she pleases. "Is this about Ruby Gillis and the looks she sends your way whenever I'm within a few feet of you?" 

At this, Anne's book _ snaps _ shut, and she finally whirls around to meet his eyes, her braid arcing around her as she does. “Oh yes! I knew you would understand, Gilbert, what with being a kindred spirit and all! I can not, simply can not, bring myself to hurt Ruby in any such ways, even as unintentional as it may be.”

“This is all because of the crush she’s been harboring for years, isn’t it?” 

“She’s positively in love with you-” Anne slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes going round and wide. “Do not, I repeat do_ not _ ever utter a word of that to her! I would _ die _ if she learned that I _ told _ you of her affections.” 

Gilbert laughs, he can’t help it. A small sound that he tries to muffle behind his textbook. There’s just something so oddly preposterous about this situation he’s found himself in. Anne slaps at his arm, eyes still wide but her brows starting to furrow.

“This is no laughing matter, Gilbert! I have disrespected her so, not only in monopolizing your time when I’m well aware of her feelings, but then by going and _ blabbing _ it to the object of said feelings! I’m simply the worst!”

“Simply.”

“Gilbert Blythe!”

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry I laughed. I just- Ruby is a wonderful girl, I’m sure, but I have absolutely no intentions of pursuing any sort of courtship with her. Nothing will ever come of it, I can assure you.”

“Contrary. When it comes to you, she has a larger imagination than even_ I _ can muster.” 

Gilbert raises an eyebrow at those words, because if you asked him, that’s impossible. Someone with a bigger imagination than Anne. _ Quite _ impossible. “Really?”

Her fingers tap tap a quiet rhythm on her book, and her eyes flick to his and away and back again. “Well, maybe not_ larger_. Oh, I should not be telling you this but, well. Promise you will never say a word of this.” Anne doesn’t wait for any sort of reply, her words bubbling out of her. “She only seems to dream of you and her together. Nothing more, no romantical details or anything of the sort. Just a very concise fact that you and her will be _ together. _Full stop.” 

“That does seem rather underwhelming.”

“Don’t make fun.” 

“I’m not! It truly does. If I was in love with a person,” Gilbert pauses, for a second, tries not to trip on his words as the thoughts tumble into each other, “most _ ardently, _ I would take my time to think of much more than just the simple vague notion of being a couple.”

“Really?” Anne’s voice has gone quiet, and when he glances her way he notices her fingers hooking themselves around the spine of her book. Her eyes, still wide, but there’s a sparkle there that he would like to assume is wonder, instead of the shock from before. 

“Yes,” and his throat feels somewhat dry now, looking in Anne Shirely-Cuthbert’s eyes, bright and imploring and so very curious, and feeling the odd sensation of wanting to tell her everything. _ “Yes. _ I would think about the after, especially. Not just the getting together, but the staying together, and every moment in between. I would want to imagine, well, _everything._ One must have a decent enough imagination to think of a whole life with whom they love so truly.” Gilbert clears his throat into the still silence that follows his words. “I do not suspect that Ruby Gillis has that type of imagination.”

At that Anne blinks, the soft way her face had settled shifts, and her mouth twists into another one of those smiles of hers. The type she tries to stomp away but Gilbert so clearly catches, and cherishes. “That is an awfully rude thing to say. She’s a very nice girl!”

“I’m sure she is. But, no matter how nice, I still have no interest in her, and I should really tell her rather soon. I don’t want her to live a life thinking that one day, I’ll love her back.” 

“You might, you never know.” Anne mumbles the words, trying for the faux casualness that she loves to infuse her voice with. 

“No Anne,” Gilbert gives her a smile, a genuine sort, and decides now is the time to focus back on his studies, before the sun properly sets and he has to make his trek from the Cuthbert’s farm back home in the dark. It’s his turn to not look away from his book as he finishes the other half of his sentence. “I know I’m certain. I could never love her.”

“Truly?”

“As certain as you are that you’re a Cuthbert.” 

_ “Oh.” _

He hears the crack of the book spine, and the quiet rustle of Anne’s skirts as she shifts around in her seat. They go back to reading, a different sort of calm quiet settling over the pair. Gilbert can’t help but glance up every now and then, just a quick look, to see the profile of her face. The slope of her nose and the way her hair wisps around her cheeks. By the third peak, he realizes Anne has yet to turn the page in the last half an hour. 

Before he has the time to even consider asking, the quiet is shattered by Anne huffing out a sigh. A smile curls at the edges of his mouth. 

“When you do reject Ruby, please do it gently, I implore you. I would hate to lose her as a friend.” 

"Why would you ever lose her over _my_ letting her down?" His confusion spikes to an all time high.

"She may blame me! Oh, I hope she doesn't."

“Why would she ever blame_ you?”_ He takes it back. _ Now _ his confusion is at its highest peak.

“Because of you and I's friendship, of course! She might think I’m trying to- to steal you away! A preposterous notion I assure you, but most definitely a conclusion she will come to.”

“Anne.” Without much thought, Gilbert reaches over, folding his hand over hers. Her jittering leg stills at the contact, and her eyes once again turn to him. The simmering anger he feels low in his chest at the prospect of Ruby blaming Anne for simply being his friend when Ruby is the one with grand delusions threatens to burn brighter at Anne’s demeanor. As if she’s already steeling herself for the surety of Ruby’s ire. “I can guarantee you, that if she blames you for any scrap of this, she’s not a true friend.”

_ “Gilbert-” _

“Would Diana ever?”

“Well, of course not. But she’s my kindred spirit, we’re bosom friends, the closest two people could ever _ be.” _

“So why would you ever want to be friends with someone who doesn’t view you in the same regard? If Ruby is to be cross with anyone, it should be with me. Never you, Anne. Never. Alright?” He squeezes her hand at that, and a little joy runs up his spine as she squeezes back.

“Yes, alright.” She breathes, the shaky foundation of agreeance in her tone. He counts it as a silent victory. Not in his favor, of course, but more in the favor of helping Anne realize exactly how deserving she is of good things.

She doesn't let go of his hand. Not until later, as he shuts his own book and announces he should take his leave before the sun dips too low. And even then, she squeezes it once more, before slipping from his grip. He catches her pressing her opposite thumb into her palm, the palm that was just flush against his own, and he catches himself doing the same thing on the road back to his house.


End file.
